<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Strawberry Skies by lockkette</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28721595">Strawberry Skies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockkette/pseuds/lockkette'>lockkette</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Pining, SAKUSA is pining so hard it hurts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:15:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28721595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockkette/pseuds/lockkette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This was supposed to be a dark academia work but now look at it... two stupid idiots and cake.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let’s see where this fic goes together, shall we? Because I have no clue where it’s going.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     A rush, that's what he was in. At times he wondered if time could just freeze. It was impossible, like wishing for a meteor to hit Japan (specifically his location), knowing it wouldn’t just happen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If time wouldn’t stop for him, he needed to stop himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Breathe,<em> Kiyo </em>, there you go. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stopped counting the days whilst using the night to work like a maniac. It was those moments where he was happy to have access to a library 24 hours anyday <em> everyday. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Random poetry lines were transferred from the dusty book to his leather notebook. It was like a doctor’s handwriting: quick, messy, but it just looked right, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would mess up a letter, and scratch the word out with a single stroke of his pen. Then he would take the pleasure in rewriting it again, putting it to better memory. He would probably send pictures of specific words he wrote to his cousin just to gloat about how the curve was curvaceous.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Scientists say that a person’s handwriting reflects onto what the person is like.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sakusa took his glasses off for a second, all he wanted at the moment was his bed. His bed and a cat. This library was growing closer to a home than his apartment, he didn’t know if that was comforting or not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tea. Tea was the solution for everything if he couldn’t be in bed or own a cat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pushed back against his chair rising up quicker than even he expected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Holy-” Now when he said holy, he meant it in two ways.</p>
<p> </p>
<ol>
<li>Holy shit don’t pop out of nowhere I will literally punch you in the face.</li>
<li>Holy shit, i'd punch you but say sorry since you have to be the hottest living thing I have seen in…. Holy shit.</li>
</ol>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am <em> so </em> sorry,” the <em> other man </em>began to apologize. Odd, since he did nothing wrong, but Sakusa would take it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I should be the one apologizing,” he gave an earnest expression, “are you hurt?” It wasn’t everyday Sakusa was nice like this, or put it this way- it wasn’t everyday he had met such attractive men that made him want to bang his head across the wooden table and then kiss this man’s knuckles repeatedly. Those thoughts were <em> not </em>an everyday thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh me? Yeah, yeah of course. A chair couldn’t even bruise me, I’m good!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sakusa couldn’t help but notice the features this man was capable of having. He wanted to run his fingers through his hair all the way through his facial structures and to that sharp collarbone that was out in the open. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He needed to stop. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Breathe, there you go. Do it again: breathe, Sakusa Kiyoomi. There you go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He said a quote, ‘mhm’ not really knowing what else to say. Let it go, it was the best to save himself from secondhand embarrassment his mouth liked to spat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well again, I’m sorry-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Make it up to me.” Sakusa was picking up his books as this man spoke up. Oh god, why did he have to speak? He speaks, practically taking Sakusa’s last piece of oxygen. He was in awe that every word this man is saying is putting him under a trance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Say no and receive a sad single life… or say yes and give this guy a chance… not any guy; did sakusa mention he had the body of a greek god and the voice of the man in his dreams sounded like? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” oh how desperate he sounded, it hurt hearing it slip from his lips. “I will… definitely make it up to you,” <em> smile Kiyo, smile, </em>“what's your number?”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>That night, he laid in bed with a small piece of paper with 10 digits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He needed to stop. This didn’t mean anything, or at least not what he was picturing. Damn pretty faces, damn swooning voices. Damn men. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked at the piece of paper more than the notes he had taken to study. He remembered it while taking his shower, recited it during his nightly skin care routine, and now he sits on his bed wondering what to do with it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What led him here? Why did he want to continue this past? So many questions ran through his mind as he thought of all the outlets if he were to come across a line where he told himself he didn’t want this anymore. But what else could he do with his life?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Love? Be in love? He throws his body back against the memory foam mattress. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He fumbled around for his phone, cluttering all his ripped out paper notes and various colored pens over his bed. His bedside table looked like an even worse mess with stationary; a mental note to clean as soon as he got out of class tomorrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Press, press, click, more clicking, a dial. The dial rang once, and that sweet, <em> chocolatey </em> voice blessed Sakusa’s ears. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whaddup baby,” Sakusa put himself on mute right after it went silent. He was blushing. Dear lord could someone physically hear how red he was? He coughed, testing his voice pitches before speaking. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Baby?” He freaked, what was he supposed to say back? His heart dropped when he thought of how he could’ve assumed it was their girlfriend instead of Sakusa.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I said what I said.” He was cocky. Everything he wasn’t at the library. Everything Sakusa didn’t want in a person. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions too quick, yeah maybe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Disgusting,” he didn’t mean to come off irritable, his expectations for a man he laid eyes on in a library were maybe too high. Yeah maybe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey don’t sound like that. Sorry did I come off a bit,”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A bit daring? Yeah you did. What’s your name so I don’t have to call you a pig.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One way to ask about someone Kiyo, woo woo!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So blunt, you. Mhm, I’d love it if you called me yours.” And he called Sakusa <em> blunt. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>A corny goof he was. It was so corny that it made Sakusa laugh. Not out loud though, it would’ve given the man too much credit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Very funny. How about I call you, ‘tomorrow, 9pm, dinner?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait that’s a stupid name yer giving me,” his voice was corrupt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yout idiot, what I was trying to say was dinner tomorrow. Us, tomorrow, 9pm. Is that clear enough for your clouded head?” Sakusa dreaded having to repeat himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw well I won’t give ya an answer now. ‘Cus then you’ll hang up on me. I want to get to know the man taking me out tomorrow.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It felt heartwarming. When was the last time Sakusa had talked to someone, as in getting to know one another? He didn’t remember, he didn’t care. He had someone here that wanted to, so, that’s what they did.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>They didn’t know how long their phone call went on for but they did know that it was lively. This unknown man, soon to be named Miya Atsumu, got to know the extroverted Sakusa Kiyoomi in a matter of hours. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It felt unreal when they heard the buzz acknowledging that the call had ended. Sakusa couldn’t help but reminisce in the soothing voice Miya spoke in. He undoubtedly realized he had lowered it as time passed and as Sakusa grew tired, like he was trying to put the man to sleep himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everything about this man soothed him. He hated to say it and would never admit it, but he found something he thought was never real. A sort of comfort, per say. Not the type of comfort he had when he had bought new pens, not the same comfort he received when he cleaned his apartment from from dusk till dawn. A sort of comfort that made him want to cry. It was stupid, so stupid but he wanted to cry talking to Miya and he didn’t know why.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Right before the waiter left she smiled and whispered to both of them, “couple’s on their anniversary get a small cake on us.”</p><p>“We’re not a couple”--</p><p>“Free cake?” Sakusa’s eyes softened. Sakusa switched up quick, it was cute.<br/> </p><p> "Pretend that we're a couple until we leave, yeah? Work for that cake, /Omi-kun/." </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. I was SCREAMING .</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wanted to get out of here. Sakusa made the same mistake he had always done: go to his cousin for everything. He blames on being an only child with only one person his age to talk to his whole life. Or maybe it was because it felt too awkward to talk to his parents about going on a date.</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re saying that you met a guy in a library, gave him your number, and then the same night called him and hit it off?” Komori, his cousin, questioned. He rummaged through Sakusa’s closet. He said he wanted to be the one to pick out an outfit for the first date he had had in awhile. When Komori said a while, he meant <em>years.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he mentioned plainly. There wasn’t much he wanted to say to Komori about Miya. It wasn't that he wanted his cousin's approval, he just hoped they'd be on the same page. Both had to admit that this was out of the ordinary for the Sakusa they've both known since birth.</p><p> </p><p>He looked up to his cousin. Everything he wasn’t, it was in Komori. He was able to talk to random people and not make it awkward half the time. He was able to go to events without looking like the odd one out. Komori blended in, Sakusa was like a bright highlighter in the box that nobody used since it worn out in a dimmer shade after its second mark. He admired how people like Komori lived: lively. He wanted to be alive while living too, could be a reason why he kept his cousin in his life. It <em>was</em> the reason Sakusa kept Komori in his life. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, was he that good looking or were you drunk?” Komori took out two of the same colored t-shirts and gave Sakusa that look of, ‘why do you have two of these?’ He just gave him a middle finger which his cousin noted and put the shirts back before looking for more.</p><p> </p><p>“He was good looking,” Sakusa stared at his fingernails. <em>I should file them before I go out tonight.</em></p><p> </p><p>“He was more than good looking if you not only gave him your number but asked him out to dinner.” He held up two shirts: a white colored button up and a black turtleneck. Sakusa stood up and took both in his hand to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>What was he feeling tonight? Would it mean anything different if he went with one than the other? He never cared before when he went on dates, he threw the black turtle neck on his bed and put the white button up in Komori's arms who put it back in its rightful place in the closet. </p><p> </p><p>“He was greek-god beautiful, Mori." Sakusa said is like it was dumb to even question.  "And also, he kinda asked for me to ask him out on a date,” he empathized the ‘he’ and ‘asked’ before returning back to admiring himself in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh he is hot,” Komori brought his phone up to his face before Sakusa could ask how he got a picture.</p><p> </p><p>It was an instagram picture of <em>the</em> Miya Atsumu. He was in a foot deep of snow in only a pair of boxers and a scarf. The caption captioned, 'you’re my best gift.'</p><p> </p><p>"Look, he's famous too." Komori scrolled through his instagram page like a stalker. Sakusa glanced once or twice, his date was indeed an influencer to the public's eye. He guessed he wasn't the only one that saw Miya Atsumu as a greek god.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope he got frostbite.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Aw don't be like that," Komori pat the middle of his back as Sakusa lounged on his bed with a new found book. He could go days, even weeks, without his phone. He only had one in the first place to keep up with emails and calls from his family. </p><p> </p><p>He licked the tip of his finger and flipped the page. He sighed in contemptment. Sometimes when he read a book that was interesting but had stupid main characters or did stupid things he just wanted to give up on the book. But how can he when it was just getting good? Once again he was conflicted, he needed to know what would happen at the end. It was a motto of his: to finish everything he starts through the end. He's kept his word on it ever since he's put his heart on it. It was a blessing and a curse to have such a motto on himself but never once has it held him back from future ideals.</p><p> </p><p>After a few more turns of the page he hears his cousin call out his name as he looks at Sakusa's phone screen. "Kiyo, your date texted." Sakusa's eyes widen for a second, before he went back to his poker face. He waved his hand in front of his cousin's face for his phone back.</p><p> </p><p>"He says: 'your prince is in his chamber"-- Before he was able to continue a bright red Sakusa had snatched the phone back in defense. Komori looked at him with even wider eyes and covered his face in cringe. This was the Miya effect Sakusa presumed. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Miya 8:36 P.M</strong> </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Your prince is in his chambers waiting for the knight in shining armour to arrive and save his grace from a lonely starry night(;</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Sakusa </span> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Don't ever make me read something like that again. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Miya</span> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>you're no fun :(</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He didn't want to... he swore to himself he tried to stop his fingers from typing anymore. He did try, just... the way his cousin rolled on the carpet of his bedroom pissed him off. He wanted to die now, he couldn't believe what this man sent him nonetheless what he was about to reply with.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Sakusa </span> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>This knight and shining armour will be there in approximately 25 minutes</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wearing gloves has never disturbed him more than when Miya sat down beside himself in the passenger seat and eyed the black gloves he wore. </p><p> </p><p>“Is that a normal thing?” He pointed. Sakusa wanted to tell him to stop pointing because it was rude but instead decided to take a different approach.</p><p> </p><p>“And if it is, what about it?” Sakusa couldn’t look at the male in his front seat as he backed out the driveway and unto the empty road. It  may have came off rude, but Sakusa had just as curious intentions as Atsumu must've. He was used to being asked why he wore masks and gloves year round. </p><p> </p><p>“If it makes you uncomfortable I’ll wear a mask around you,” he stated. That answer wasn't a usual response. </p><p> </p><p>Some asked if he had a disease he didn't want to spread. Others just avoided questions and him, not like he cared, but it did take a toll on how he turned out to be. A red light forced them to stop the car, also gingin Sakusa the time to look at the man beside him. Sakusa felt like goo, the one he would immediately brush off to go take a shower and forget entirely. But this goo repeated in his mind over and over, he kept melting into it, becoming one with this feeling within himself.</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa melted. He was overheating, this was bad. <em>Internally bad.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Breathe, there you go. Do it again: breathe, Sakusa Kiyoomi. There you go. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He coughed to distract himself from eyeing Miya, “if you don’t have one don’t worry.” That was all he said the rest of the ride.</p><p> </p><p>They rode in half silence. Atsumu started talking about if his outfit was appropriate. It was a tight maroon long sleeved shirt and black dress pants. It didn't look bad at all, maroon suited him nicely. Not just because it showed off his upper body muscle... Sakusa admired both parts to the shirt. After explaining to Atsumu that he looked fine, he began to ramble about a brother of his. Twin, he says. He talks about them growing up, and groans when he gets to fighting bits. They seemed to have gotten closer over time. Apparently he ran an onigiri shop in two locations: Hyugo, their hometown, and Tokyo, where Atsumu resides most of the time due to work.</p><p> </p><p>It was then where Sakusa decided to ask, where?</p><p> </p><p>“Photographer,” he fiddled with his fingers, “I take pictures, and like”—</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah I know what a photographer is dumbass.”</p><p> </p><p>More questions came in. One came up that was ironically expected yet Sakusa wasn’t ready to answer.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Where do you work?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa pushed on the breaks a bit harder than he should have.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re here.”</p><p> </p><p>It was a small restaurant ran by a family Sakusa knew and adored. He came here often, but never with anyone. It always smelled like essential oil, it was soothing to everyone who entered. The lights were bright due to it getting dark outside, it gave Sakusa a sense of familiarity when he would pass by late at night after studying at the library. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t expect all of this. Where did you find this place?”</p><p> </p><p>“Exploring.” The waiter came with water. They weren't one familiar with Sakusa as a regular. They would've known he drank their special homemade tea but he didn't pesker. His eyes landed on the man in front of him, who was obnoxiously staring at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t talk much, do you? What’s in your head?”</p><p> </p><p>“Everything, too much. What do you wanna know?”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your name?” He didn’t want to push his limits too quick. Atsumu must’ve understood the question in the car went too far so he started with the basics. It was only when he entered the car that he realized Sakusa Kiyoomi was a complete stranger to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Sakusa,” he removed his mask to take a sip of his water.</p><p> </p><p>“Sakusa Kiyoomi. Interesting you didn’t ask me for mine when I asked for yours,” Atsumu was very interesting to him. He wasn't normal, in a good way, the way he was arrogant was good. </p><p> </p><p>“There were better things to talk about,” he meant about how he now knew about Sakusa’s favorite sport, favorite animal, hobbies. He was greedy to know just as much as the other wanted to know. Even more. This apology dinner was supposed to be just that. Sakusa consciously let himself be swayed by a man with a defined jawline and sharp abs. He was stupid for the man, not drunk.</p><p> </p><p>His glare was getting darker and stronger. No words were exchanged, who was going to break who first? Staring at someone for a long period of time was rude. Of course Sakusa knew that, but this man broke every unsaid rule he set in his head and it frustrated him how everything he did from Sakusa was different in a mere hour or so of them interacting. Sakusa remained conflicted.</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to speak? Sakusa broke, “I’ll speak.”</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu smirked. He clasped his hands together in front of both of them and spoke.</p><p> </p><p>Rapid fire.</p><p> </p><p>“Color you secretly like,”</p><p>“yellow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you from?”</p><p>“Tokyo.”</p><p> </p><p>“How many siblings do you have?”</p><p>“Only child, one close cousin.”</p><p> </p><p>“Birthday?”</p><p>“March 20th.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where do you work?”</p><p>“I’m unemployed”--</p><p> </p><p>It was too late to unsay what was said. Rapid fire was a game Atsumu had played whenever he wanted to know something about someone but couldn’t get it out of them. He said he played it often with his brother, it worked every time. What a fool he was to have heard it from Atsumu himself and still fall for it. Sounds a lot like his feelings--</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t look at me like that,” he snarled quietly. The fact of the matter was that there was nothing<em> on</em> Atsumu’s face. No empathy, no pity. Sakusa didn’t need those. He didn’t want it. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not looking at you like anything,” their conversation went on hold as the waiter passed by ready to take their order.</p><p> </p><p>Right before the waiter left she smiled and whispered to both of them, “couple’s on their anniversary get a small cake on us.” Sakusa wondered when the store had inserted this deal since they never did things like this but his eyes lit up.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re not a couple”--</p><p> </p><p>“Free cake?” Sakusa’s eyes softened. He looked directly at Atsumu and reached out for his hand. Atsumu looked scared, like he was about to get hit. Sakusa switched up quick, it was cute. </p><p> </p><p>Those puppy dog eyes. The hand on his hand. He had this man at his knees for a slice of cake. Atsumu spoke up, “our anniversary was yesterday but we were both busy that evening,” he smiled politely and looked towards his… apparently boyfriend.</p><p> </p><p>“We have cheesecake, chocolate, and vanilla as of right now.” She was so polite as well, it almost felt illegal to lie for a grown man to have free cake. </p><p> </p><p>They, as in just Atsumu as Sakusa held onto his hand, occasionally rubbing his thumb against each finger up and down, ordered half cheesecake and half chocolate. The moment she left a sigh came over them. It didn't stop Sakusa from playing with his fingers. They were rough, calloused but he couldn't help but feel comfort from running over them.</p><p> </p><p>He must've gotten carried away in touch since he forgot that those fingers were not his... He fumbled himself before bowing his head apologetically and releasing the grip.</p><p> </p><p>“A sweet tooth? Really now,” Atsumu laughed in a small hum. He couldn't believe someone like Sakusa was into sweets. He seemed like a, 'I only have candy on holidays,' type of person. </p><p> </p><p>"I like my fair share of treats." He played with his own fingers, missing the contact of <em>his</em><em>. </em></p><p> </p><p>"You don't feel bad about lying to her?" Sakusa's back was against the way of where the co-workers were gossiping. Atsumu looked over to the waiter talking to her co-workers while also staring at the two men. He winked at them, in which they responded by getting back to work. It works every time. </p><p> </p><p>"I mean if you don't want the cake I like chocolate too," he teased, but in honesty, he was selfish enough to eat the whole cake by himself and leave the minimum of crumbs for him. </p><p>Atsumu slid into his booth. "Pretend that we're a couple until we leave, yeah? Work for that cake, <em>Omi-kun</em>." He asked with his eyes if he could but an arm around 'Omi-kun,' he earned a nod. He wasn't bothered by any of this, should he have pushed him off? He didn't mind any of this, that's why he was going insane. </p><p> </p><p>"Now fake a laugh, and hit me on the shoulder playfully so they can see," Atsumu instructed. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa did so, they acted as if they were flirting "Ow," Sakusa may have acted too much into his character, "playfully, <em>Omi-kun</em>. Not <em>punch</em> my arm." He rubbed the spot Sakusa didn't hold back on. It was for that childish nickname he was given. He would do it again if he had a chance before the waiter came around finally with a cake and check. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa wrapped his arm around the arm he hit oh so dreadfully. He kneaded into it as a way to help cope with Atsumu's stinging, but it only made him groan in more pain and Sakusa muffle a giggle. </p><p> </p><p>"I'll be paying for the check, isn't that right- my love?" Sakusa stuttered. He didn't know if he was questioning Atsumu in that sentence or himself by the way he announced Atsumu as, 'his love.' The way it rolled off his tongue felt foreign, but it did the job of persuading the waiter. They left hand in hand, but most importantly, with cake.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>For most of the time they were together today Atsumu was able to see his whole face. He didn’t know if it made him special or not but he enjoyed seeing it. He wanted to see it ruined. </p><p> </p><p>“You despicable and ungrateful catastrophe.” Sakusa closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Breathe, Kiyo, there you go.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He wiped the smudge of cake off his face. He sent death glares to the man he let in his car. He’d be a goner if it got on his dark red leather seats.</p><p> </p><p>The man just laughed. He laughed. He laughed that stupid laugh that made Sakusa want to soften… but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Call him petty, but-- no that was it. Call him petty.</p><p> </p><p>He took a piece of frosting onto his finger and breathed in and out once more before doing what he was about to do.</p><p> </p><p>No, he felt mean now. Sakusa frosted another finger of his while Atsumu had the audacity to keep hurling with his hand over his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“Miya.” That surely had his attention.</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu leaned in, opening his eyes and wiping away left over tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw come on don’t be like,''-- This was where Sakusa was supposed to laugh mischievously. He was far from knowing how Sakusa Kiyoomi dealt with matters.</p><p> </p><p>The lines went over his right cheek and past his nose. It was all fun and games until he had a taste of his own medicine, huh? Sakusa wanted to say that he should’ve, but he held his breath and covered his small ‘pfft’ with his clean hand.</p><p> </p><p>He had to admit, he didn’t like games. And when he did play, he liked to come up on top. In his opinion, Atsumu should’ve never started a battle to add to their compilation of upcoming war.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am so proud of this chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>